


The Importance of Season Tickets

by katayla



Category: President's Daughter Series - White
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:25:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katayla/pseuds/katayla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few weeks before Meg's law school graduation, she and Preston attend a Boston Red Sox game together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Importance of Season Tickets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minnow/gifts).



> I couldn't resist when I saw this prompt. Someone else sees Meg/Preston! Yay! Enjoy!

It had become somewhat of a tradition. Whenever they were both in the area—and, over the years, the area had expanded to include most of the eastern United States—Meg and Preston would go to a Boston Red Sox game together. Preston had threatened to buy her season tickets for her law school graduation (15 days and counting), but she didn’t think he would. Tickets would imply a kind of commitment.

Or maybe she was over-thinking again.

She’d heard the rumors, of course. Beth always passed on the good ones—although Meg was fairly certain Beth had started some of the most juicy stories herself. And she knew the lines had long been blurred between her and Preston. He’d always been more than her family’s employee and now.

Well, now he was her baseball friend. Which sounded stupid even to her, but Preston’s friendship, like the paparazzi, like the question of whether the guy would ever be caught, was something she tried to never examine too closely.

So she smiled as she approached him at the gate and he nodded at her. Once it would have been a hug, but the easy physicality of their relationship had fallen away several years. Meg’s security detail surrounded them as they walked through the stadium. Though her mother was no longer president, Meg was a popular face still, and she was relatively certain she’d never be able to escape her guard. (Another thing she tried not to think about.)

The conversation was easy as they traded Washington gossip and discussed the Sox’s chances against the Seattle Mariners. They were stopped a few times before they reached their seats, but the presence of the former first daughter at a Sox game was nothing new.

“When are you moving to Washington?” Preston asked. Meg had secured a position with the congresswoman from her mother’s old distract. She knew she could’ve ended up somewhere more prestigious, but she liked the idea of working her way up from the bottom and paying her dues. At least, as much was possible when you looked like the most popular former president.

“A few weeks with the family and then I’ll be in Washington by mid-June.”

Preston grinned. “I want to throw you a party.”

“Oh, Preston.”

“The president’s daughter returning to Washington?” Preston asked. “If I don’t, someone else will.”

“I don’t want to be the president’s daughter. I want to be myself,” Meg said. And then rolled her eyes. “And don’t tell me I sound like a petulant teenager.”

“I haven’t thought of you as a teenager—petulant or otherwise—for a very long time.”

“I haven’t been a teenager for a long time.”

And oops. That was too close to the things they didn’t say. Preston was still the person she counted on to tell her the truth, but both of them were prone to avoiding certain topics.

“When we’re both in Washington,” Preston said, and then stopped and looked around. Maybe that was another reason they enjoyed going to the games together. Meg feared crowds, but there was a kind of safety to them, to watching your conversation because you never knew who was within earshot.

And so Meg relaxed, certain they could postpone this conversation just a little longer, but she’d made the fatal mistake so many of Preston’s political opponents had. She underestimated his determinism. He touched her hand—and he remained one of the only ones who would touch, would even look at her injured hand—and started over. “When we’re in Washington, I hope to see a lot of you.”

Which was safe. He was a family friend, _of course_ he wanted to see her. And maybe later she would pretend that’s what he meant and he would let her, but the sun was shining and the game was about to start, so said, “Me too.”

The Red Sox lost in extra innings, but Meg decided it was the best game she’d ever attended.

And she wasn’t all that surprised after all when Preston bought her season tickets for graduation.


End file.
